


Nothing Like You and I

by honeyedlion



Category: Suzumiya Haruhi no Yuuutsu | The Melancholy of Suzumiya Haruhi
Genre: Developing Relationship, Fluff, High School, M/M, Oral Sex, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-22
Updated: 2013-11-22
Packaged: 2018-01-02 08:54:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1054869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyedlion/pseuds/honeyedlion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kyon and Koizumi fall into something as easy as breathing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Like You and I

               Koizumi smelled like a magazine, or a new car. Brightly plastic, like his smile but somehow warmer than that. Different parts of him smelled differently as well. His hands smelled like tea, but his hair smelled like coconut and all of it new, shiny and unrumpled.

                Kyon wondered what his smile smelled like, before shaking his head, and scooting his chair away.

                "You're too close." He muttered gruffly, and there was that smile, that self-deprecating tilt to his brows. Kyon huffed and popped the buttons on his sleeve, rolling them back. They were in the clubroom, waiting on Haruhi, who had a meeting with her math teacher.

                ( "I've got to stay late, Kyon, so stand in my absence. Lead the Brigade to great victory!")

                Kyon could hear Mikuru-chan behind him, the soft rustle of her skirt, and the delicate clink of dishes as she poured water to heat for tea. When she walked past the table, she smiled at him, that sweet expression coming from her heart shaped face, and Kyon smiled back, a little foolishly.

                "Your turn, Kyon-kun."

                Kyon turned to look back down at the board, to see where Koizumi had moved. He picked up a piece, and hesitated. He looked up at Yuki, who was seated behind Koizumi in the chair against the wall. She looked up at him, her face blank, book still held in her tiny hands. Very slowly, she lowered the lid on one eye, before raising it again.

                Kyon placed his chess piece, and Koizumi was smiling at him, eyebrows raised in a way that suggested he knew exactly what they were doing. Kyon shrugged at him, and Koizumi's smile melted into something a little more real for a moment, before he bent close again to examine the board.

                And who played chess side by side anyway? It was weird, and Koizumi was weird, but if Kyon moved he wouldn't be able to see Yuki, and really he had sat down first. He felt a subtle whuff of Koizumi's breath against the back of his hand, and Kyon shivered.

                "Tea?" Mikuru asked him, and Kyon turned to look at her and smile gratefully, taking the tea she handed him with great solemnity. Ah, Mikuru's tea. The delicate fragrance, the pure but strong taste that snuck over your senses and ensnared your palate-

                "Ah, thank you, Mikuru-san." Koizumi was saying, and Kyon shivered again when Koizumi's hair brushed against his cheek as he turned to accept his own cup of tea. Too close. Entirely too close, and Kyon tried to surreptitiously slide a little farther away, without spilling his tea. He finally gave up. The tea had more importance than his need for personal space. After all, this was Mikuru-chan's tea.

                He watched Koizumi set his tea down; turning the cup carefully away from the board game so as to ensure it wouldn't spill. His nails were perfectly trimmed ovals, almost meticulously neat, and Kyon wondered if he scrubbed them with a nailbrush separately, or if they were naturally that white, that clean. His own hands weren't dirty exactly, but his nails were squared off, and his thumbnail was jagged where he had bitten it earlier. Koizumi picked up a pawn and moved two spaces, tapping it on the board, as though he was walking it.

                Where had he gone to school before this, before Haruhi took over his life? What clubs had he joined before? Had he played chess there too? Was that where he had picked up this habit, of pretending the pieces truly had to jump from space to space, instead of just moving them, as Kyon and Yuki did? Kyon took another sip of tea, before reaching forward and hovering his hand over a piece. Yuki reached up, not quite casually and tugged on her earlobe, and Kyon paused, examining the board more closely. Ah. Well. That would have been stupid.

                He adjusted his movement, picking up his bishop instead, and watched Yuki begin her slow wink. As he moved his piece, he winked solemnly back.

                He could feel, but not hear Koizumi's silent laughter. Tiny huffs of breath against his face, and then Koizumi was looking back down at the board. Really the game was almost done. Despite Yuki's patient coaching, Kyon had made a few too many stupid moves. Ah well. He took another long lingering sip of tea. He felt strangely peaceful, in this quiet schoolroom, with tea warming his hands, and the warm smell of coconut next to him. Yuki's pages rustling.

                Even Haruhi bursting into the room, demanding they find a live squid ten and a half minutes later couldn’t really destroy the moment.

:

                Kyon didn’t really think that other clubs went on quite so many outside trips. He wanted to ask one but Haruhi had a way of alienating other people, through the appropriation of their equipment, members, and good sense. Kyon sympathized really, but it was one of the few times he was genuinely grateful to be on her side, instead of one of her victims. Haruhi victimized him enough as it was.

                It was unusual to see everybody outside of school uniform. Haruhi had even forbid Yuki from wearing it on this ‘movie-going venture’, and so Mikuru had offered to help her pick out something. It was strange to see them both in dresses. What Yuki would have picked left to her own devices, was something he’d never know.

                Koizumi wasn’t wearing the uniform either, instead wearing a loose cardigan, in grey on grey stripes, and a black shirt underneath with a swooping neckline, so his collarbones were visible. He looked like a model, or an idol, slumming it with regular students, but unable to leave behind the designer jeans. Kyon sighed. It was always bad, when he and Haruhi were the only two who looked normal. Jeans, t-shirts, and on Haruhi the manic glow of the criminally insane and dangerous. Such were his friends.

                Mikuru would have looked normal, except she looked too lovely. Instead of a model, perhaps an angel, gracing mere mortals with her presence. Her white dress seemed to glow in the light in front of the movie theater, and her thin sandals only accentuated her delicate lines. Kyon sighed.

                “What’s wrong?” Koizumi asked, and Kyon hunched his shoulders as though warding off a blow. He could feel Koizumi’s breath, moist and hot against the back of his neck, and it made the hair on his neck stand up. Kyon took a step forward before turning to face the other boy.

                “Nothing, really. Just not my first choice of movie.”

                Koizumi laughed, and it was both human and not. It was almost inhuman in how perfect it was. If Yuki was alien in her stiffness, and societal mishaps, Koizumi was alien in his perfection. Normal people’s laughs were not melodic, and yet just a touch self-deprecating.

                “Ah, I doubt I would have chosen ‘Encounters of an Alien Kind, Part The Third’ myself, but-“

                “Yeah, I know.” Kyon shifted his feet, and tucked his hands more securely into the pockets of his jacket. “Well, at least if she’s watching the movie in a quiet theater, I can’t see how she can cause a lot of trouble.”

                Koizumi nodded, and then there was a strange moment where they just looked at each other. Kyon felt like he should be saying something, but Koizumi wasn’t, he was just watching him calmly. His face was relaxed in lines as if he were about to smile, but hadn’t found anything quite funny enough. Kyon realized that Koizumi’s nose had the slightest up tilt to it, making his appearance slightly less perfect, but no less charming. And that- that was.

                Actually a really scary thought.

                “I got the tickets!” Haruhi said. “And thank you for treating Kyon. That’ll be $25.79.”

                Kyon sighed, before reaching back for his wallet and handing her the cash. Great, paying five ways for a movie he was sure only Haruhi wanted to see. Well, and maybe Yuki. It was hard to tell one way or the other with her.

                He accepted his ticket, and passed Koizumi his, watching the smile he got in return. And there it was, when he turned his head just so, the way the very tip of his nose was pointed ever so slightly skyward became clear. And Kyon smiled back at him before he realized.

                Koizumi’s eyebrows were still high when Kyon turned around, flustered but trying not to show it. He followed Haruhi into the theater, pausing momentarily at the snack bar, before sighing. He really shouldn’t. Not after just being cleaned out.

                “Did you want something?”

                “Ah…” Kyon shook his head, a little regretfully, but more annoyed. “No. I would like to have some money left after this trip.”

                Koizumi laughed again, and he looked amused. “I was actually offering to treat. You have paid for enough of my drinks at Haruhi-san’s direction.”

                Kyon felt inexplicably awkward, and he shifted uncomfortably, trying not to show it. “You don’t have to-“

                Koizumi was no longer looking at him, but instead leaning past him, leaning into him, to examine the glass counter candy displays, a thoughtful look on his face, and Kyon’s breath caught in his chest. He could hear Haruhi talking Mikuru into purchasing and trying some super sour deadly candy, and Yuki’s quiet tones advising her against it, but Koizumi was making this thoughtful humming noise, low in his throat. As though what snacks to buy before a movie was of the utmost of importance. He turned, his body sideways in front of Kyon, and only a breath away.

                “Do you have a soda preference?”

                If Koizumi’s smile smelled like his breath, than his smile would smell very faintly of peppermint, and would feel warm against Kyon’s skin.

                “No.” Kyon said, a little disjointed, and this must have been an unexpected response, because Koizumi quirked one of those terribly expressive eyebrows before leaning a little closer. His mouth was almost smiling, and Kyon jerked away when he realized he was watching Koizumi’s mouth, and Koizumi wasn’t smiling anymore, instead he looked thoughtful.

                “Alright.” Was all he said, and then proceeded to order one of practically everything.

                They got into the theater, after Haruhi had bought Mikuru an ice-cream saying it should neutralize the sour taste in her mouth (Yuki was eating the leftover sour candy calmly, which Kyon found appropriate, and also deeply disturbing) and after Koizumi had finished loading Kyon like a packhorse with his snack choices. The Organization must have a nice paycheck.

                The theater itself was almost completely empty, and Kyon sank into a seat with a sigh, Koizumi settling more gracefully next to him. Kyon had been hoping for Mikuru, but he should have known Haruhi was going to keep her close, the better for scaring. Poor Mikuru, who had made the mistake of saying she found movies like this scary. Kyon felt for her, but did not feel gentlemanly enough this evening to want to trade places.

                Besides, Koizumi seemed to have claimed the chocolate mints as his own, and Kyon wanted to get a handful before they were gone.

                The movie was predictably terrible.

                Better, possibly, than the one they had made the year before, but only just. The acting was poor, the effects were cheap, and it appeared to have been filmed in someone’s backyard. He could hear Mikuru’s quiet squeaks of terror every time an alien appeared on screen, followed by Haruhi’s malicious chuckles.

                Koizumi was quiet, his eyes trained on the screen, his arm occasionally brushing Kyon’s as he picked up his drink, or reached for popcorn, which he had set in Kyon’s lap just as the trailers had ended. His striped cardigan was impossibly soft, and Kyon wanted to reach out and touch it, to figure out what it was made of. Instead he ate his popcorn quietly.

                A breath against his ear, so hot, and Kyon froze, popcorn still held in one hand, midway between his mouth and the bag in lap. “If Haruhi-san asks I am running to the bathroom.”

                Kyon nodded afraid to turn because of how close Koizumi was, and he felt a small huff of laughter against the side of his face. He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, trying to will his heart to stop racing.

                “Thank you, Kyon.” And this time he felt the other boy’s lips brush his ear, and his whole body broke out in goose bumps, his skin alternately hot then cold. A brush of air, a quiet rustle and the other boy was gone. Kyon concentrated on breathing normally.

                He turned a little to look at Yuki, who was looking back at him, her eyes wide and alien in the dark flickering lighting of the theater. He laughed a little weakly and shook the bag in his lap at her.

                “Popcorn?”

:

                Haruhi had decided on a sleepover.

                No amount of ‘we’re too old’, ‘my parents won’t let me’ or ‘it’s a school night’ would dissuade her. She had also decided that Kyon’s house was the best place to hold this. She was officially calling it a team bonding exercise, but Kyon thought that she just wanted an excuse to go through his things, and talk to (interview) his family.

                Kyon sighed, again, and shifted a little awkwardly. Only another fifteen minutes and the train would clear out a bit, but until then quarters were very cramped. He could feel the edge of Yuki’s open book digging into his side, and Haruhi’s elbow would draw back as she gestured, before shooting back to jab him in the stomach once again. None of which were quite as distracting as Koizumi and Kyon didn’t want to know why.

                Koizumi who was plastered against his back, his mouth level with the Kyon’s neck so every other second a warm rush danced over his skin. This time, Kyon knew without being able to smell it, that his breath would smell like sweet green tea, because Kyon had watched him drink a cup before they left the clubroom. Had watched Koizumi’s hands turn the cup by the handle in small rotations on the table for almost thirty minutes. Instead of watching Yuki read, or Haruhi talk. Instead even, of watching Mikuru work on his math homework, which Kyon loved to watch, because she would get this delicate wrinkle in on her forehead, and her tongue would dart out to touch the corner of her mouth every few seconds.

                Instead he had watched Koizumi. Who had in turn, watched him, almost slyly.

                And now all he could concentrate on was the warm press of the other boy against his back, and the steady in, out, in, out of his breath. Haruhi was saying something particularly wild, and her elbow propelled into Kyon a little harsher than before, and Kyon stepped back, before he realized he couldn’t, and he felt just as much as he heard Koizumi’s breath catch at the unexpected contact. Kyon could feel his face flushing, and stepped forward into the corner of Yuki’s book as punishment. Only eight minutes now and then there should be enough room even to sit down. He focused his eyes forward, watching the swaying of the train as a whole, and tried not to feel every minute shift of Koizumi’s body against his own.

:

                When they got to his home, Haruhi declared everyone needed to get out the school uniforms, that they were stifling fun. So Kyon and Koizumi went into his room to change, while the girls took over his sister’s room. Her could faintly hear Mikuru squealing protests from beyond the wall, and sighed loudly. He bent over reaching for his dresser drawer, pulling out sweatpants and a clean t-shirt. He could hear Koizumi unzipping his bag behind him, and Kyon tried to concentrate on unbuttoning his blazer.

                “Ah, sorry, but do you have a clothes hanger I can borrow?” Koizumi said from behind him. “I want to hang up my jacket, for school tomorrow.”

                Kyon turned, and froze briefly. Koizumi, apparently blessed with extraordinary skills at stripping (and wasn’t that a thought he never needed to have) had already shrugged off the aforementioned blazer, as well as pulled his tie loose, and unbuttoned his undershirt. Kyon took a deep breath, did not look at the corner of his shirt where it was still tucked haphazardly into his slacks, and walked a little past him, to rifle through his closet for a spare clothes hanger.

                “Here.” Kyon muttered, and Koizumi accepted it with a smiled. Koizumi was no paler on his chest than he was anywhere else, and Kyon wondered if it was because he was uniformly pale from winter, or uniformly tan from something more recent. He turned around, and set about concentrating on pulling of his own shirt.

                While he changed, he listened to the sounds Koizumi made behind him. The rustle of him sliding the blazer onto the hanger, and then the small clink as it was set on the hook on the door. A rustle he couldn’t identify. Koizumi’s tie going into his bag, and then the slow slide of his shirt slipping from his shoulders, and being shoved into his bag as well.

                Kyon pulled his t-shirt over his head, and he could hear Koizumi’s fingers fumbling with his belt at the same time Kyon was. Koizumi finished first, and Kyon paused unconsciously to hear the snap and the slow hiss of his zipper coming down. He set his own belt on the bed, and shucked out of his pants, feeling ridiculous. He had turned away, but who knew if Koizumi had. He was still facing Kyon the last time he had turned around. And it wasn’t as if he could check now.

                Kyon stepped into his sweatpants, and paused for a long moment. Silence.

                “Done?” He asked turning around, only to pause. Koizumi looked at him, sliding his pants down his hips, before kicking them off, and Kyon’s mouth went dry. He had to look somewhere else.

                “Almost.” Koizumi said, perfectly pleasant, still smiling at Kyon as he turned to his bag, bending a little to rummage through it. His back was a long smooth line, and Kyon could see the definition of his spine, the curvature of his waist to his hips. He had never been one for sports, and excepting the occasional PE locker room, he had never watched another boy. Koizumi’s shoulders were wide but smooth. Kyon wondered, absently, the thought so foreign as to not be his own, what his skin smelled like.

                He was still watching him when Koizumi turned back around, and Kyon had a second to see his face look surprised, and then smug before it went back to neutral. Kyon had no idea how his own face looked. He knew he should be looking away, but couldn’t seem to, not when Koizumi was holding his gaze just the same. It was still, but not uncomfortable. Anticipatory, but not frightening, and Koizumi only broke eye contact to reach up and pull his shirt over his head.

                He was wearing black boxer briefs.

                He slipped on a pair of cotton house pants, and walked towards Kyon who was suddenly having a lot of trouble breathing. Koizumi brushed past him, reaching for the handle to the door.

                “Let’s go save Mikuru-san.” He said, his breath brushing out of his mouth to rush over Kyon’s face, and Kyon licked his lips as though he could scent the air. Koizumi smiled at him, and then was gone.

                Kyon had no idea what he was supposed to do.

:

                Apparently, he was going to cook dinner for everyone. Haruhi had allowed him Yuki and Koizumi as helpers, but she was letting Mikuru give her a make-over and apparently enjoying it, so Kyon was robbed of such peaceful company. He didn’t mind. He had set Yuki to chopping leeks, and then had to make her chop leeks at a human speed. Watching her hands moving in a blur with the knife was making him both nervous and nauseous.

                Kyon was making curry. He was a teenage boy, not a four-star chef, and it was something he knew how to cook decently well, and that he also happened to have the ingredients for. At least this way, he reasoned, he wouldn’t be paying for take-away. He knew how much Haruhi ate, and Mikuru for all her delicate looks had a healthy appetite.

                Kyon looked over, watching the lines of Koizumi’s arms as he ran potatoes under running water. He realized he had never really seen Koizumi’s upper arms before, not when he could stop and look at them. They were the same uniform color as the rest of him, and he could see his muscles working as he rotated the vegetables.

                Kyon turned, and Yuki was watching him again, her small face serious. This was made slightly scarier by the fact that she was still chopping, her eyes never leaving his.

                “When you’re done, Yuki, you can go join Haruhi. It shouldn’t take much longer and then everything just has to simmer.”

                She looked at him more sharply, and Kyon looked back, feeling tired. He should have known Yuki would know what was going on before he did. She always did, and when she nodded it was more of a relief than it should have been.

                It was less of a relief to be alone in the silent kitchen with Koizumi. The running water shut off with a click, but Kyon didn’t turn around, steadily browning the peppers in his pan, and after a moment he heard the sound of Koizumi’s bare feet on the tile of his floor.

                “Do you mind chopping those potatoes?” Kyon asked, and He heard the steady precise sounds of knife meeting cutting board as an answer. He tried to focus, but it was hard, knowing Koizumi was behind him. He tried to remember if he had been this focused on the other boy before, but it was hard to think of a before. He thought, briefly of how it would be if Mikuru was behind him chopping potatoes, and he felt a wave of brief sentimentality.

                Nothing like the sour rush of wanting anticipation Koizumi left in his mouth.

                “Do you cook often?”

                Kyon swallowed before answering. “Not really. I don’t have a need to very often.”

                Kyon stirred the peppers in his pan. He wanted to ask whether Koizumi cooked and if he did what he liked to cook. Did he do it because his parents were out of town, like Kyon did, or did he live here on his own? Kyon wanted to know, but the thought of having the answers to all those questions made him feel unsettled. It was different when Koizumi was all plastic, coconut scented edges. When he was real, when he had a small scar on one shoulder blade, he became much harder for Kyon to ignore.

                Koizumi sighed, behind him, and Kyon had turned to regard him quizzically before he even realized what he was doing. The other boy wasn’t even looking at him, was instead looking down at what he was chopping, his face drawn and intense. Kyon was walking towards him, one hand still loosely wrapped around a wooden spoon, mind on autopilot.

                Koizumi looked up at him, and Kyon blinked. Separated by a counter, Koizumi was still close enough for Kyon to see the flecks of black and gold in his eyes, and he was leaning closer. Koizumi took a deep shuddering breath, before letting it out slowly, and the feel of it rushing past him made Kyon close his eyes, swaying closer.

                And then Mikuru walked through the door.

                She was talking over her shoulder, and when she finally turned to look at them Kyon had pulled away. She stared at them, her face an adorable moue of confusion, and Kyon acknowledged with a growing sense of numbness and acceptance that he felt nothing for it. For her. He used to love Mikuru’s look of sweet confusion.

                He glanced back at Koizumi, who was smiling at him in that patently plastic way, his face molded into acceptable lines, any annoyance smoothed out of the way, his hands wet from chopping food for Haruhi, and Kyon sighed.

                Yare yare.

:

                “Let’s play truth or dare.”

                “No.”

                “Shut up, Kyon. You don’t get a say. You were allowed to make dinner.”

                “Allowed? Like that’s a rewa-“

                “Yuki you go first. Truth or dare.”

                “How do you play?”

                “Just pick one.”

                “That’s entrapment, Haruhi.”

                “Fine. Kyon, truth or dare. Yuki, you can use him as your example.”

                “Ehhhh, truth.”

                “Hmm. What’s the most interesting thing in your closet?”

                “There is nothing interesting in my closet.”

                “Boring! There has to be something.”

                “There really isn’t.”

                “Fine. Ask somebody else. Ask Yuki.”

                “Yuki, truth or dare.”

                “Truth.”

                “Jeez. This is so stupid. What’s your favorite color?”

                “I do not have a color preference.”

                “Whaaaat? Why not? You have to like a color. I like pink, because they are the color of Mikuru’s panties!”

                “Waaaaah, Haruhi-san!”

                “Haruhi!”

                “It is my turn isn’t it?”

                “Yeah, go ahead, ask somebody.”

                “Koizumi-kun, truth or dare?”

                “Ah, dare, thanks.”

                “I don’t know how to answer that. I have not observed anyone answering in that manner yet.”

                “Oh, jeez, Kyon give Koizumi a dare.”

                “Why me?”

                “Fine. Koizumi I dare you to strip down to your boxers.”

                “HARUHI!”

                “Ah, Haruhi-san, I believe if Kyon’s parents walked in on that sort of thing they’d get the wrong idea.”

                “You guys aren’t any fun. Fine. Koizumi I dare you to tell Kyon you love him, staring into his eyes in a soft voice.”

                “Haruhi…”

                “I love you.”

                “…”

                “Ah, Kyon’s gone all red! That was great, Koizumi, you are a natural actor. We are definitely putting more love scenes in our next movie. Maybe you can be the psychic who reads the intentions of his beloved’s killer and has to stop them. Kyon can be the killer. He looks violent pretty often.”

                “Hey!”

                “Isn’t it Koizumi’s turn?”

                “Kyon, truth or dare?”

                “Do we have to play this?”

                “Kyon! Stop spoiling the game! Just answer the question!”

                “Fine! Truth.”

                “Do you like someone?”

                “…”

                “Kyon, you have to answer the question! Right Mikuru? Tell him!”

                “Eh? Ah? Me?”

                “…yes. I do. I think.”

                “Ahhh. Our little Kyon all grown up, and has a crush. Who is it?”

                “I thought you had to wait for your turn? And does not Kyon have to choose truth for you to answer that question?”

                “Oh fine. It’s Kyon’s turn.”

                “Yuki, truth or dare.”

                “Dare.”

                “I dare you to hold your breath for a minute.”

                “…”

                “Ah! SHE REALLY DID IT! Yuki, what are you an alien?”

                “Ah, Haruhi-san, no need to go that far.”

                “Mikuru, truth or dare?”

                “Eh, ah, truth?”

                “Are your panties really pink?”

                “AH, Yuki, I knew you were a hentai, under those neat little glasses! It’s always the quiet ones!”

                “You aren’t quiet at all.”

                “Eh, whatever. Answer the question, Mikuru-chaaaaan.”

                “Wah, eh. Oh, this is so embarrassing. They are pink, Yuki-chan.”

                “Aha! She’s telling the truth.”

                “Ah, Haruhi-san, truth or dare?”

                “Dare! Definitely dare! Hit me with your worst!”

                “I dare you to-to- to-“

                “To what? C’mon Mikuru!”

                “I dare you to sit in Yuki’s lap.”

                “Ah, Mikuru-san, I never knew you had revenge in you.”

                “Ah, Koizumi-kun, no, what, I didn’t-“

                “C’mere, Yuki!”

                “…”

                “Why are we doing this again?”

                “Shut up, Kyon. Truth or dare?”

                “Why have I had to go three times? Fine. Dare.”

                “I dare you to tell me who you like!”

                “That isn’t a dare, Haruhi.”

                “I am Brigade Leader, and the one giving you the dare, so that’s the dare.”

                “Ah, Haruhi-san, that really isn’t a dare…”

                “Kyon likely won’t answer either way.”

                “Fine. Yuki you pick a dare then. I don’t care to speak to those who disappoint their brigade leaders.”

                “I dare you to put makeup on Koizumi.”

                “Ah…”

                “Oh, Yuki, you are a genius! Panties, and cross-dressing! I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

                “Why do I have to do this?”

                “Because.”

                “It’s fine.”

                “Mikuru, go get your case. Let’s do this.”

:

                Kyon tried to steady his hand, but it was hard to. Koizumi had his eyes closed, completely trusting, long lashes resting against his cheeks. Kyon had sharpened the eyeliner to a fine point, and was now trying to steady his hand enough to not draw a line clear across the other boy’s forehead.

                He could feel Koizumi’s breath, deep and steady, every exhale hitting him directly in the hollow of his throat. He brought the pencil down, and traced straight across the lash-line of his lid. It was easier than he thought it would be. Koizumi’s skin was clear and fine and Mikuru’s make-up pencil glided easily. He traced the second one, and he realized he wanted to get this right. Koizumi’s breath hitched as Kyon reached up to smudge the corner of his eyes, and Kyon watched the slight tilt of his nose with greedy fascination. This was the closest he’d even been to Koizumi.

                “You can open your eyes.”

                It was even harder to concentrate now. Koizumi’s were trained on his face, and Kyon could feel his cheeks heating helplessly at the other’s proximity. He fumbled one handed in Mikuru’s case, finally pulling out a tube of clear lipgloss, and he uncapped it with clumsy hands. Koizumi was smiling at him, not the one he handed out to everyone, but a small quirk of pale pink lips that made Kyon’s stomach roll with nerves. He spread the shining gloss on nervously, and when he finished Koizumi gave him his regular smile, and the effect made his breath catch.

                It looked so alien. Koizumi looked pretty. He didn’t look like a girl, he just looked…

                “Ah! You clean up well, Koizumi! Maybe we should see if Kyon is the same.”

                Koizumi glanced up at Kyon, raising an eyebrow sardonically, and why was that suddenly so much more wicked than it had been a moment ago? His eyes seemed larger, deeper.

                “I don’t think Kyon can really carry the look.”

                Kyon was watching his lips shine. When he pressed them together, and then pulled them apart, thin strands of the gloss, caught and clung, evidence of Kyon’s unwieldy skills. He had put too much on. The effect was making it hard for him to breath.

                “Well whatever. Let’s do something else.”

                “Alright.” Kyon agreed on autopilot, and Koizumi huffed a small laugh. Kyon felt it like a blow.

:

                “You can sleep on the bed. I have a futon on the floor.”

                Koizumi turned to him smiling, and Kyon huffed and looked away. He could hear the sounds of the girls talking faintly through the walls, and wondered if they were sleeping in separate futons and bags, or all curled together. It was strange imagining Yuki sleeping regardless.

                He pulled out the futon, unrolling it hastily across the floor, trying not to listen to the sound of Koizumi going through a nightly routine in his bathroom. Kyon found himself wishing Koizumi had showered here, had used Kyon’s shampoo, and bath wash. Until his edges were scented with Kyon, Koizumi’s smile tasting of the same toothpaste, Kyon tasted every morning.

                Kyon heard the bathroom door click open, and jerked his gaze away from where he had been staring in the direction through his own door. He was still fluffing his pillow, expression guilty, when Koizumi came into the room.

                A ruffle of bedclothes, and a small flurry of motion, and then Kyon reached up to click off the light.

                His room was dark; the curtains were drawn across the window but enough light slipped through for him to make out the ceiling above him, the shape of his bed an inch away from his hands, and a foot above him. And now, in the silence and the dark, Kyon could hear the sound of Koizumi breathing.

                He softened his own breath unconsciously, ears straining for the soft rush and sigh of Koizumi’s breath, the tide coming in and out. He sounded so close, and yet, with all the darkness between them he seemed so far away. It was so quiet, nothing to say between them, and it was eating at Kyon. He had nothing to say, except everything. Nothing to say, except that he wanted to feel that plastic smile pressed against his skin, wanted to tuck his chin in the soft coconut press of Koizumi’s hair.

                “Kyon.”

                The barest whisper in the night, and Kyon was afraid his voice would creak as he answered.

                “Yeah?”

                “Oyasumi.”

                Kyon swallowed sharply. “Oyasumi.”

                And then the steady tide, pulling him in to sea, dragging him under into sleep.

:

                “Do you think we should buy the green?” Koizumi asked, staring at the package in his hand, as though the wrong color choice could end the world. Well, since they were purchasing origami paper for Haruhi’s newest idea (“We could make a hundred thousand cranes, and then sell the wishes, to raise Brigade funds!”) it could. And that wasn’t even the most terrifying part of Kyon’s day.

                Koizumi was the most terrifying part of Kyon’s day. He was the same height as him, with neatly trimmed nails, coconut shampoo, and deadly smile, and Kyon wanted him.

                It was the last part that had his hands stuffed into his pockets, and his gaze avoidant.

                “I don’t know.” He muttered, and Koizumi huffed a sigh, turning to look at him with something like mild exasperation. Kyon looked away, a flush heating his cheeks. He felt unbearably obvious, like any second, Koizumi would look at him and get that knowing little smirk. Or worse his eyes would just go blank, that empty smile falling onto his face.

                And he’d say something like ‘Kyon, you know I care about you as a Brigade member-‘

                “Well, why don’t you call her?”

                “Why don’t we just buy both?” Kyon countered, and he huffed again, but a small smile worked its way onto his face, and he looked fond now, not exasperated. Kyon couldn’t look away, not from those brown eyes smiling up at him, eyebrows tilted together in woeful amusement. He knew he needed to, that any moment Koizumi would realize, but instead he was smiling back, his own brows smoothing out.

                “Okay.” Koizumi said. “We’ll buy both.”

                “Okay.” Kyon repeated. He loved this supermarket.

:

                “Do you want to walk home together?”

                “Sure. Lemme ditch the guys.”

                “Ah, you don’t-“

                “No it’s okay. I mean, Kunikida just got a new girlfriend and I don’t need to hear the details.”

                A smile, and Kyon looked down at the floor.

                “Alright. If you’re sure.”

                “I am.”

:

                “I wouldn’t do that.”

                “Good thing you’re playing the white, and I am playing the black then, huh?” Kyon said, making his move, one eyebrow raised with much more confidence then he felt. Koizumi laughed at him, and took his bishop easily, tapping his knight along the spaces, the sound soothing and familiar. Kyon wondered how long they would have to play before he began to move his pieces that way.

                He didn’t think he’d mind.

                “So, do you know when the girls are getting here?”

                Kyon shifted uneasily in his seat. “Ah, well, Haruhi told me she had to get straight home. I came, because I wasn’t sure if she had told Mikuru and Yuki. Though if nobody shows in fifteen minutes its probably safe to say…”

                “That they were informed?”

                “Yeah.”

                Koizumi hummed, and Kyon marched another pawn to what was surely his death. Go with god, you tiny chipped enamel soldier. You fought bravely and- Koizumi made his move- died well.

                “You’re just killing them off.”

                “They’re dying for a worthy cause.”

                “What, my amusement?”

                “That’s a worthy cause.” Kyon said, and froze, the words hardly out of his mouth. Koizumi was silent across from him, and Kyon stared heavily at the board, looking at where Koizumi was slowly taking him apart, peeling his sad defense to pieces. You think with all the chess games he’d lost by now, he would have won at least one.

                He flicked his eyes up, and Koizumi was smiling at him. It was a smile Kyon had never seen before, beautiful and bright, and heartbreakingly sad. Kyon felt his breath catch, and he reached out and put his hand over Koizumi’s. The other boy inhaled, a sharp breath.

                “You really want to die, for this amusement?” Koizumi whispered, and Kyon knew they had changed subjects at some point, but he was touching Koizumi, and the other boy’s smile was crumbling, peeling away, leaving him looking shocked, and a little scared, color riding high on his cheeks.

                Kyon didn’t know what to say. He was a horrible jumble of emotion, and the only thing he could think, over and over, the words running on loop in his head, was that Koizumi hadn’t pulled his hand away. They were still touching a tentative link, joining the together across the divide of the table, and the battle of the chessboard.

                “I want…” Kyon swallowed, and the only words he knew how to say anymore spilled out of his lips. “I want you.”

                Koizumi pressed his lips into a thin line, but his gaze was steady, and ever so slowly, he turned his hand, so they were touching palm to palm.

                “I know.” Koizumi said, and Kyon let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

:

                “No, no one’s here.”

                “Good.” Kyon whispered, his voice a fervent heated rush, and Koizumi gasped, the corners of his mouth tilting up into a smile as Kyon hustled him inside, barely waiting until the door closed, to press him into the wall, and press his mouth to that edged smile. Koizumi let his mouth fall open, and Kyon fell into him, their breathing harsh and loud in the quiet apartment. Koizumi was sucking on his bottom lip, teasing at the soft skin, and Kyon didn’t know what to do with his hands.

                He let his back drop to the floor, and it seemed to signal something to Koizumi, who pulled back a bit. Kyon chased after him, tangling together at the mouth for a brief moment before leaning away. Koizumi’s eyes were bright, sharp and he was smiling, no hard, plastic edges just soft, pink kiss-swollen skin. And it was all Kyon’s work.

                “Koizumi.” He sank his hands into the other boys hair, and pulled his close again, Kissing him breathless, kissing him until that look would never go away.

                “Wait. Wait, wait, wait. We need to-“ Koizumi sounded as wrecked as Kyon felt, and Kyon shoved him back into the wall, just enough to feel him stiffen and then melt, his breath coming out on the edge of a ragged gasp, rushing over his ear, and it made Kyon shudder.

                “I love the way you breathe.”

                “The way I breathe?” Koizumi laughed, a disbelieving puff of breath, and Kyon shivered again, a full body motion.

                “God, Koizumi.”

                “Okay, okay.” Koizumi was muttering, and he sunk down suddenly, Kyon’s hands stupidly following him down, still clutching at his hair. He looked up at Kyon, sly brown eyes from under thick lashes, and Kyon let out a low breath.

                “I want to put you in make-up again.” He said stupidly, his brain to mouth filter apparently entirely gone, and Koizumi broke into an incredulous smile.

                “That long?” He asked.

                “Longer.”

                And then Koizumi’s hands were undoing his belt, fingers quick and steady, popping his buttons, and cupping the heavy weight of him as he slid the zipper down slowly, careful so as not to catch on the fabric underneath, but to Kyon it felt like teasing torture.

                Koizumi drew him out slowly, and then held him for a long moment, crouched on his knees, backed up against the wall, and Kyon was already panting, breath sucked from him as though he had run a mile. Koizumi’s eyes were brilliant, gorgeous, warped, and then he wrapped his smile around Kyon’s cock, and Kyon shuddered, one hand pulling from Koizumi’s hair to brace against the wall.

                He licked him, soft, barely there flicks of tongue, and the pulled back, and Kyon whined, wanting to tug Koizumi’s head back, but feeling it would be too much, too soon. Koizumi was smiling like he knew what he was thinking, and he smiled wide before opening his mouth.

                “Kyon…” He breathed, and the feeling of his breath teasing the damp head of his cock, Koizumi’s lower lip wet and full made Kyon grit his teeth. “Kyon…”

                “Koizumi…” He groaned, and the other boy sank around him, the corners of his mouth still quirked in that never failing smile, and that just made Kyon burn hotter. Koizumi brought his hand back up, wrapping it firmly around the base of him, and imagining one of the girls gripping him like that, smiling at him wickedly up through their lashes, was so ridiculous, it made Kyon want to huff a laugh. It could only be Koizumi. Only him. Only those neat manicured nails, pressing so softly into the delicate skin, and Kyon groaned.

                His hips bucked helplessly, and Koizumi choked a little, eyes watering. Kyon pulled back, unwillingly, but Koizumi followed him, holding him steadier, and his mouth and hand were reaching a rhythm, and he was making it look easy, and Kyon felt his eyes try to close, but he fought them. He wanted to remember this forever, the way Koizumi was looking at him, the way his hair looked mussed from Kyon’s hands.

                “Koizumi, I’m-“

                The other boy hummed a sound of agreement, and Kyon bit off a curse. Koizumi sucked harder, and Kyon thrust forward just a bit, and Jesus, he was coming, and it was Koizumi, and-

And-

And-

He pulled back panting, and Koizumi was still looking up at him, and Kyon shivered at the feel of Koizumi panting against his cock, wet and slowly softening. Every huff of air felt as intimate as a kiss.

“Good?” Koizumi asked playfully.

“I want to see you naked.” Kyon said, and Koizumi smiled, full and dirty.

                “My bedroom’s this way.”

:

                “Tea?”

                Mikuru asked over her shoulder, her back to him, and his to hers. Kyon made a noise of affirmation, and he heard the familiar sounds of her beginning to make tea. Koizumi was sitting across from him, and Kyon let his eyes linger on the creases in his Blazer, the artfully messy fall of his hair, shading his eyes. Kyon now knew that he woke like that, hair rumpled from sleep. Like any other boy, he pulled a comb through it and went to school. It was just another imperfectly perfect part of him.

                “Do you want to play something?” Koizumi asked, and Kyon shook his head, smiling at him, and Koizumi smiled back. It was an entirely new smile, a little silly, a little wide, a little crooked. And while it may look stupid, it felt amazing. Kyon knew from experience. The same smile was on his own face.

                “Contagious.”

                “What?”

                “Contagious, Koizumi. You insanity and smiles are catching.”

                “Are they fatal?” Kyon winked at him, a long slow gesture that made Koizumi laugh, the sound light and carefree. Mikuru made a shushing noise, and Yuki gave him a blank look, that Kyon knew was as close to exasperated as she could get. He just smiled. He was in love with an idiot.

                Yare yare.

**Author's Note:**

> Defy [god](http://honeyedlion.tumblr.com/). Or submit a request.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Intoxication](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5584753) by [CoralFlowerBad (CoralFlower)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoralFlower/pseuds/CoralFlowerBad)




End file.
